the cut

Last night, I cut off all my hair (Got Samson’d). This now marks the third time in my life that I’ve shaved my head (like skin bald… Aggassi, non-meth taking, bald). Each of the two, previous times, the bic’ing of my head was done for purely arbitrary reasons that seemed to make a whole lot of sense at the time.

The first time, I cut my hair because, in an attempt to dye it brown (I do not recall why I wanted to dye my hair brown in the first place), my hair had turned strawberry blonde. Naturally, to avoid looking like Bono and Whitney Houston’s love child, I thought it would be a great idea to try skin bald. My drunk roommate and our drunker hallway savant took clippers and Gillette to my head. It was 2001.

 

The second time, I took the roof off due to frustration with my corn rows that kept frizzing. Originally, I had sworn off the hair arrangements the prior year, but decided to do it again because I was living in Europe at the time. In my mind, I thought growing my hair out and braiding it would be a fun way to scare Euro guys and get Euro girls to sleep with me (both were true to varying degrees). However, the hair wouldn’t cooperate and, under the prodding from my two, drunk American and Austrian friends, buzz and blade were applied. It was 2005.

 

By that logic, I was due for another clean dome look (four years had passed from the first to second time and its been four years since then). The idea to do it this time surmised from a Halloween idea. I was totally enamored with the movie The Watchmen this spring and decided to turn myself into Dr. Manhattan. $40 dollars worth of body paint and one dance with the low setting on the razors later and we have the third baldie of my lifetime. Here’s the scary part… Every time, I live in fear for about two weeks praying my hair will grow back. It has been two days and some of my fears are assuaged by the stubbles bristling, but, looking at Biggest Brother and Uncle, some trepidation remains.

This may become a permanent look…

The Cliche

We all like Cliches. In fact, they’re probably the second best category things come in. They’re safe. They’re familiar. They save us valuable time from having to analyze data and/or make our own inferences (which gives us infinite more time to watch youtube SNL skits satirizing the President’s Nobel Prize win or start a glogster account!). These broad, common themes weave across various demographics and allows us to feel some feigned sense of unity (which, intrinsically, is good, I suppose), while denying the alleged uniqueness with which we’re endowed. Plus, it usually has a sick beat.
It is why we, as a society, love Jay-Z more than Black Thought, Kings of Leon more than Band of Horses, Jessica Biel more than Mila Kunis. Though, with alarming regularity, people will insist they dislike cliches so much, almost, to the point of hate (in essence, its almost cliche to hate cliches).

This brings us to the best category, non-cliches that are cliche. Things that appear to be different than the well-worn adages, but, in actually, fit into a niche of a counter idea. This may seem confusing because it is… An example: Martin Scorsese is a celebrated director who makes, largely, cliche films. They’re startling in-depth and gripping, straight-forward, seen-before characters that occupy a well-covered world. Sam Mendes makes non-cliche cliche films. Unusual circumstances that, while implementing some twists and turns in plot, largely follow a theatrical arc that’s easy to follow and is quite logical and expressed in cliche films, with, perhaps, a wrinkle (i.e.: unfamiliar characters… the ravages of war in a war where there’s no real action in his “Jarhead”). While Radiohead is great, Modest Mouse is better (ironically, Radiohead started out in the latter of this comparison half a decade ago and Modest Mouse is slowly moving to the former). While Common is great, Wale is better. Zooey Deschanel is great, but Ellen Page is better. Dreamworks is great, but Focus Features is better. These “non-cliche cliche” things are usually what “hipsters” and “alternatives” flock to before the masses (and once the masses flock to it turning it from “non-cliche cliche” to just “cliche” they’ll reject it like Mutumbo did weak jump shots in the 90s).

To further muddle things, almost in dichotomy to this second concept of non-cliche cliche is the non-cliche non-cliche. They’re the things that not only don’t fit the typical fare, but are largely unique to anything before and very few things after. It’s what made a poor, wretched fool of Franz Kafka (go ahead and wikipedia him) during his life and a genius after he was dead (True savants will argue that this is the true reward of the artist, but I’d venture that Ol’ Kafka would rather have gotten some while he was still alive). Our modern day “Kafka’s” are, but not limited to: Wes Anderson and Lupe Fiasco. The hardest thing about this group is distinguishing from the innate genius/intelligence and utter garbage.

Oh, and I intentionally didn’t put the accent mark over the word cliché… take that conformity

“If there is anything the nonconformist hates worse than a conformist, it’s a non-conformist who doesn’t conform to the prevailing standard of non-conformity”
- Bill Vaughan

…and all great things must come to an end.

Opening Balance: 13,180 miles

Awakening in my bed in Vegas, it dawned on me, Today was not only the end of the trip, but the end of my summer, and the end of my youth. I will soon be entering into graduate school not too long after we will be entering California. And before I had a chance to think about what all this means, I stopped myself, so that I could enjoy these last few hours with my brothers.

The trip was fairly uneventful. We saw that even Nevada’s prisons had casinos, learned that you can get great pineapple in the middle of the desert, and realized that we would probably not fair too well in said desert if our car broke down. We also were stopped by the agriculture police of California. Apparently, CA forbids any outside “agriculture products” (read: plant life) from entering the state. After a quick peek inside, and an even faster look in the trunk (during which the inspector’s eyes got very big at the prospect of searching through all my crap), we were waved through. Mind you, this all occurred after we had spent the last hour driving through the state’s Mojave Desert. An area that the state, apparently, refuses to acknowledge, as the welcome center and the “Welcome to California” sign all came after the police check point. I hate to think of the smugglers trying to bring fruit with them, they would probably be turned around and forced to drive the hour back to the Nevada state line through that barren wasteland.

Anyway, upon arriving in Santa Barbara, I decided to collect some of the trip’s superlatives.

Best Food: Smokehouse BBQ in Independence, MO (Day 1)…Salsa Brava (Flagstaff, AZ – Day 2) came in a close second.

Hottest Temperature: 103 degrees Fahrenheit in the Mojave Desert (Day 5)

Coldest Temperature: 60 degrees Fahrenheit in Flagstaff, AZ (Day 3)

Biggest Surprise: The Hoover Dam (Day 4)

Biggest Disappointment: Oklahoma City (Day 3)

Biggest Regret: Not going to Class Reunion Lounge in Blue Ridge, MO (Day 1)…this was closely followed by the not having a steak while in Texas (Day 3)

Longest Day of Travel: Day 1 — 1,144 miles

Shortest Day of Travel: Day 4 — 361 miles

After 5 days, 14 states (Maryland > West Virginia > Pennsylvania > West Virginia > Ohio > Indiana > Illinois > Missouri > Kansas > Oklahoma > Texas > New Mexico > Arizona > Nevada > California), 3,000+ miles, and a series of excursions, adventures, & heated discussions, we made it to our final destination – UCSB, where Father awaited us.

Closing Balance: 13,534 miles (363 miles today/3153 miles total)

…and today, I am speechless, again and again and again…

Opening Balance: 12,819 miles

I think today can be summed up with three “W”s.

W Number 1: “Whoa…” There are many things that don’t require a visit; that merely seeing pictures will suffice, the Capitol, the the Tower of London, etc… The Grand Canyon is not one of them. As cliché as this is going to sound, a friend summed up my feelings simply, “a picture shows that it’s a canyon, but only a visit can show that it’s grand.” Or as Middle Brother put it, “Never before have I been to a place that was more aptly named.” I won’t pretend to have the vocabulary or the skill to describe the World Wonder, I will merely say, “Go There!” Oh, and practice your German, they were, by far, the most common tourists I saw there.

W Number 2: “Wow!” One the biggest surprises of the trip had to be the Hoover Dam. I’m not sure about my brothers, but I was just expecting to see some big concrete wall with a road atop it. Instead, seeing it in person, nestled within the canyon, seeing an even bigger one being built in the background, and seeing a serene Lake Mead, I was instantly taken aback. The natural wonders of canyon and water are beautiful enough to warrant mesmerization, but when juxtaposed against the man-made dam, the entire scene is just…awesome, but in it’s more original meaning, like awe-inspiring.

W Number 3: “What the-?!” Never before have I seen so many opposites squeezed together in harmony than when I was in Vegas. The standstill traffic the passed by the airport with planes coming and going, the beautiful, pristine looking glass buildings and the distinct smell of sewage. Not to mention the nonchalant attitude to things that would be crazy elsewhere, old people gambling – using their grandchildren as lucky charms, drivers who compared the strip clubs of Armarillo to those of Vegas, and $18 for a food court meal. While I won’t say exactly what went down tonight (what happens in Vegas…), I will say a grand time was had by all.

One more noteworthy thing that was masked by the preceding three. Like the Coelacanth, Sizzlers were thought to have gone extinct many years ago, lacking any credible sightings sense the mid-90s. However, somewhere between Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon we had a Sizzler sighting!

Closing Balance: 13,180 miles (361 miles today/2790 miles total)

…and then there was one…

Opening Balance: 12,210 miles
What a way to start off the day!  After about an hour of driving, we go pass by the town of Adrian, TX.  Shortly after, the radio station we were listening to (92.3)  started to become static.  This led the pressing of the scan button, which took us all the way up to 96.1, a country station.  No one really likes country, so I pressed the scan button again, which took me to…96.1?  That can’t be right.  So I pressed the button a second time, and for a second time was taken through every station before returning to 96.1.  Apparently, this is the only radio station in northwestern Texas, leading Eldest Brother to say, “96.1, we run this!”

Our first stop of the day took us to Albuquerque, NM, where we decided to compare two restaurants.  The first, suggested by Father, was the Frontier Inn, a cafeteria style eatery located across the street from UNM.  The second, Monte Carlo Diner, suggested by none other than Guy Fieri himself on the show Diners, Drive-Inns, and Dives.  To be compared: green chili hamburger, french fries, and one dessert (a hot bun and baklava, respectively).  Someone once told me that life is short, have dessert first, so we shall.  Both desserts were tasty, but a bit uninspired.  The honey bun was clearly store bought and heated, so the edge goes to the homemade baklava of Monte Carlo.  The fries were more potato-y at Monte Carlo, but the texture of Frontier Inn’s, crispy outside, soft inside, can’t be ignored.  One point to Frontier.  So now we have the burgers.  Frontier Inn had a better patty, it had a meaty taste and a very nice flavor; however, in the Monte Carlo’s burger, all the flavors, the chili, the onion, the lettuce, the beef, melded together in a more cohesive whole than at Frontier Inn.  With that said, the winner by a hair, is Monte Carlo Diner, because it had a superior dessert and burger, and its fries were quite good.

Our stopping point for the day was Flagstaff, AZ, a town that is as small as you think it is.  Here we went to our second Diner, Drive-Inn, Dive of the day, Salsa Brava.  Let’s just say that this was the culinary apex of the trip.  Each of us thoroughly enjoyed our meal, and our waitress as pretty, nice, and funny.

Ending Balance: 12,819 miles (609 miles today/2429 miles total)

…and I don’t think that we’re in Kansas anymore…

Opening Balance: 11,534 miles

“We’re in Independence, MO – we need six oxen, two wagon axels, and why don’t we get two extra wheels…”  says Middle Brother as we get on the road.  Today we are en route to Amarillo, TX via Wichita, KS and Oklahoma City.  The ride is fairly fun, complete with sing-a-longs, from “Uptown Girl” (Billy Joel) and “Because You Loved Me” (Céline Dion) to “Semi-Charmed Life” (Third Eye Blind) and “I Saw the Sign” (Ace of Base).

Upon entering Wichita, we realized something, that this city doesn’t suck.  The buildings aren’t that bad and at the restaurant, our waitress was the first attractive girl since leaving Maryland.  Okay, maybe not the first one, but surely one of few.  And speaking about surprises in the “Sunflower State,” it’s actually quite attractive, relatively flat, but lush and green.  Don’t get me wrong, i would never want to live here, but it looks pretty.

Oklahoma is also interesting, but its capital is marred by oil drills and its landscapes are held back by the presence of wind turbines.  What happened to the time when we would harness wind energy with quaint, squat windmills, instead of these tall, anorexic pinwheels?  Seriously, they look like creepy giant cyclops or something.  They most definitely belong in the same children’s book as the trunk that eats kids.

After all of this we pull into our hotel in Armarillo and check-in.  We park the car, go up the stairs, approach our room, and…whoa! The curtains are drawn, but beneath them you can very clearly see that the light is on; and there is a “do not disturb” sign in the key slot.  What’s going on?  Are there squatters in our room?  We knock, no answer.  We try the key, it works.  Slowly, we open the door, and see disheveled sheets and a towel drying on the desk chair.  We retreat.  Then we demand a new room.

Tomorrow, we head to Flagstaff, AZ which only means we have to go through New Mexico, or more specifically, “A-L-B-U…QUERQUE!”  (bonus points to those of you who can guess the musical artist whose song I just quoted)

Ending Balance: 12,210 miles (676 miles today/1820 miles total)

And so it begins…

Starting Mile Count: 10390.8 miles

With The Roots blastin’ on the radio, we begin our journey to the Océano Pacifico. Eldest brother is at the wheel, Middle Brother is riding shotgun, and Youngest Brother is sitting in back. Our ride, a Mercury Grand Marquis, with a trunk so big it’s like something out of a children’s book. Not the nice kind, but the ones with titles like, “The Trunk That Eats Children!” Seriously, I hope we don’t cross any mobsters in Las Vegas, as they can easily stuff all three of us in that thing.

The ride was fairly uneventful, Maryland to West Virginia to Pennsylvania back to West Virginia to Ohio to Indiana to Illinois, a state which apparently thought we had traveled far enough.  Not ten miles from the city of St. Louis (and the Missouri state line) traffic came to a standstill on the mighty I-70.  “Well, nuts to this!” we all said and headed to 270.  Not ten minutes later we exited at the last second, just barely escaping a second standstill situation.  Apparently, the ITA decided that Saturday afternoon was the perfect time to close two lanes on the major bridge to St. Louis, and completely shut down the other.  I don’t know what kind of road work was required, but those things better have been about ready to crumble!  We lost over an hour; thank God for satellite radio.

Ending Balance: 11,534 miles (1,144 miles today/1,144 miles total)

the loose ends

So, after being told that it’s been almost a month since my last post, I felt I should touch base prior to the greatest North American Road Trip since Stiffler pretended to be blind(let’s be honest, our trip will probably be better than Breckin Meyer banging girls WAAAAY out of his league, but humility for now).  Whenever I try to imagine how this trip will go, I keep having one of those 80’s movie music montages… Like when Ferris Bueller was driving the car and Cameron was spazzing out in the back.  Wonder which brothers will reprise those roles (Spoiler: Littlest is Cameron)

Anyway, here are five things I’m looking forward to for this trip:

• The Grand Canyon.  My camera has a panoramic feature that has been sorely underutilized… I plan to use it excessively at this destination as I feel this will be one of the few stops where pictures will be allowed to be taken (Aren’t you glad you’re subscribing to the blog?!?)
• Dayton… Hahahaha! I’m just kidding.  I’m vehemently lobbying to pass over the Pit Stop State (That’s right, Ohio… You’re the pit stop state.  Everyone who goes there goes with the intentions of passing through… The people who stay there just got detoured longer than they wanted).  The Real Number #2 is Kansas City… Kauffman Stadium and Zach Grienke, Negro League Hall Of Fame, and the oddity of a singular city in two separate states.
• The inevitable fight that leads to an interminable silence between Biggest Brother and Littlest Brother.  Its coming… Delaware (that’s right, it’s legal now, baby!  Up to $3500) Line: 26.5 Hours into the trip.  Take the Under…
• LA. My first experience in the city of angels will either be insanely awesome or insanely horrible… I’m convinced it can’t go any other way.  The odds are even that I’ll, either, end up on TMZ slinking out of a nightclub with Lindsay Lohan (we’re just friends) or getting Suge Knight’d because I accidentily wore the wrong colors and wandered into Watts.  I can’t wait…
• VEGAS, BABY, VEGAS!! I’m being advised by my legal team not to write anymore about this reason.

Read the blog to find out what happens!  See you on the Road

The Time is Nearly Upon Us

As many of you know, Three Brothers No Pizza will be hitting the road to take Brother the Youngest to graduate school in beautiful Santa Barbara, CA!  Five days, four nights, three brothers, two coasts…

And one official map!

http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF&msa=0&msid=
117455650607070540021.0004732dd30931882c9a0

Make sure to follow us online via Google Maps and right here on the our official blog!

My Current Old Stuff New Experience

It seems that every other week or so I come across something that’s cool or interesting that’s been around for a while, but for one reason or another I missed.  Therefore, it’s new to me.  Examples include Twisted Toffee Frosties, awesomely big wet-naps at TGIFridays, and a song by the group Queen that I CAN’T GET OUTTA MY HEAD!!!!!

It’s called Don’t Stop Me Now.  Have you heard of this song?  Apparently it’s been around for 30 years.  But they didn’t play much Queen on the radio stations I listened to growing up.  How did I come across this song you ask?  Well, the trusty MP3 player that I’m lugging around, that’s how.  I obtained the awesome player from a pal of mine.  He didn’t give me permission to give his name, so to protect the innocent, let’s call him Cayo Thestnut. Cayo and I bartered a couple years back.  I gave him a ticket to a Ravens Game, a couple beers, and some Skittles, and he gave me a 3lb, 30GB MP3 player packed to the gills with more music than most people would ever need in a lifetime.  After nearly 4 years I still come across songs I’ve never heard before.

That brings me to the ditty of my obsession.  Holy shit this is a good song.  Starts slow, builds with rage, has late 70s guitar riffs, awesome background vocals…what more can you ask for?? Oh…you want great lyrics do you??? This song has one liners galore while telling a story of….well I don’t really know what story the song tells, but based on the time it was created and the song writer, I’m guessing its about a coke head explaining his feeling of invincibility and enjoyment while clearly high.  I could be wrong.  Anyway, this song is about “having a good time”, being “outta control”, and giving one’s self a kick ass name such as “Mr. Fahrenheit”.  This song makes me want to run or fight or jump or something.  

 Am I alone in my lateness??  Has anybody else found themselves recently enthralled with something that’s totally played, outta style, or just plain old?